


Warmer winds from a softer god

by Saasan



Series: Twitter Thread Fics [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Public Sex, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic, Shameless Smut, Virgin Keith, fertility god Shiro, not exactly mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saasan/pseuds/Saasan
Summary: Cold, sticky, hungry, and nearly naked--not the best start to his day, but Keith was going to do his part to worship the gods and partake in the village's spring ritual, even if he was uncomfortable.  All he had to do was stand there until the priests dismissed him.  Easy enough.  Easy until the high priest took notice of him, that is.Smutty public ritual sex between a virgin worshipper and an affectionate god of nature and fertility.It's fun.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Twitter Thread Fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679095
Comments: 14
Kudos: 259





	Warmer winds from a softer god

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of talk about pregnancy in this, but no actual mpreg. It's a spell. You'll see.

It wasn't that Keith wasn't willing to do his part for the gods and the health of the land--it was that he was ill-suited to this kind of...ceremony. The yearly spring festival was always a time for worship and fertility rituals, but this year all three of the moons would be full on the equinox, and the priests had lost their damn minds. They had gone into the surrounding towns and villages to organize an extra large festival, and somehow they had decided they needed *fifty* “unblemished” virgins. 

Much to his chagrin, Keith made the cut.

Now he got to stand on the dais with the rest of the young flock in the early morning light, draped in only a thin sheet of linen and a number of bangles and necklaces of carved beads, none of which provided any shelter against the elements. Topping it off, Keith sticky with painted symbols (which, of course, he had somehow already hopelessly smeared), meaning he was veering steadily toward being miserable.

Keith managed not to shiver as yet another cold breeze whipped through the town square. He was grateful to be near the end of line. Each virgin was beckoned forward, had their robe removed, and was examined naked for their “purity” or whatever criteria the priests had in mind (ridiculous--Keith knew for a fact that half of the people on the dais were not virgins by any standard, but when you need fifty, apparently you make do with what you can find). Those at the back of the line, like Keith, got to keep their flimsy linen on for longer, so far as things went, he was fairly lucky. 

Sticky, cold, hungry, and lucky.

Why couldn’t he have been involved with literally any other part of the festival? He routinely hunted and foraged in the woods--they could have assigned him to find herbs or take down a deer. Hell, he’d rather be one of the morning dancers than on the dais, and that was saying something, because Keith did  _ not _ dance. 

(But at least the dancers were warm!) 

Keith schooled his face from a grimace back into stoicism. Even if the priests had gone overboard this year, the gods still needed to be honored. If that meant him freezing his balls off before the entire countryside, so be it. He tried to discreetly rub his hands against his sides to warm them while keeping his posture straight and (hopefully) dignified.

“Stop fidgeting. The high priest keeps looking at you,” the girl beside him hissed in a whisper.

Keith glanced at the high priest nervously and stopped rubbing his hands. The high priest was a visitor from the temple at the capital. He was a broad, impressively muscled man with intricately braided long, black hair that had a slash of moon-white in its bangs. His face was covered with a carved mask, giving him a severe air, and his naked chest boasted an impressive display of beaded necklaces, denoting his offices and rank. If Keith didn’t know better, he would have assumed this was the arch priest himself, but there was no way their town meritted such a noble visitor. Whoever he was, the man was easily the most important person to have been in their valley within the past two decades, and Keith was not eager to hold his attention. He turned his focus back on the officiating priest and willed the man to look away.

Robe after robe was removed and body after body inspected. Every so often, a person would be asked to stand aside, indicating they were worthy of the second portion--fertility rites. That would mean a lot of simulated sex and chanting while the morning dancers performed. Thankfully, Keith would be excluded from that: only those interested in becoming priests themselves were ever selected for that.

The morning stretched on. Keith began to wonder if the priests were regretting the choice of 50 virgins since they were now definitely behind schedule and the crowd was getting restless. Abruptly, the high priest strode forward and stood in the middle of the dais. 

“Enough,” he said. He pointed to Keith. “Come.”

Oh shit.

Timidly, Keith shuffled forward. 

Without ceremony or preamble, the priest began to strip him of his robe and jewelry, dropping them carelessly on the ground. Keith trembled, colder than ever and now doubly embarrassed. What had he done to get himself kicked out? Was the festival ruined? What would happen to the rest of the ceremony and the other virgins? 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing he wasn't supposed to speak but unable to help himself. 

The high priest paused and tilted his head as if confused, but then he continued his work of removing Keith’s coverings, dropping the final bracelet to the ground without looking at it. He then took one of his own necklaces off and draped it carefully around Keith’s neck, adjusting it minutely before stepping back. He walked slowly around Keith, examining him thoroughly with his eyes alone. Come to think of it, the priest had managed to do everything so far without actually touching him. Odd. Keith held himself still under the examination, heart beating wildly. He wasn't getting thrown out, apparently, so what was happening?

Having completed his circle of Keith, the high priest stepped forward and cupped his hand to Keith’s cheek. Keith gasped involuntarily, surprised both at the contact and at the warmth of the man’s hand. He leaned into it unconsciously and was shocked when the man’s thumb caressed him.

“You are cold,” the high priest said quietly.

Unsure if he was allowed to speak, Keith only nodded. 

“Are you willing to follow the old ways with me?”

Now Keith’s mouth dropped open because what the-----just  _ how  _ old of ways did the man mean?! Because going back far enough, that would----

The man’s eyes flickered down and Keith’s followed the movement. Ah. Yes. The jut of the man’s erection was clearly visible through his silk half-skirt. He was definitely asking to have sex with Keith. 

Blushing hard, Keith looked away from the man’s erection and found himself once again meeting the priest’s eyes. They were as grey and strong as steel but somehow still kind. It was a request, not a demand. Keith swallowed hard.

If he was being perfectly, 100% honest, he did not want to get publicly fucked by a stranger in front of everyone he knew while he was freezing and practically starving, and there were literally dozens of other, more worthy candidates around him to fulfill the role. He glanced to the side and tried not to flinch under the stares of hundreds of his fellow worshippers. The warm hand on his cheek guided him back to look at the priest.

Gods, he had so many questions. Why the old ways? Why him? What would happen if he said no? He bit his lip and glanced to the side again, and once again the priest caressed him with his thumb.

“I do not wish to mount them. Only you.”

That only brought up more questions. 

“Answer him!” the town priest hissed. “He’s asking--”

The high priest held up his hand and the other man fell silent. Keith closed his eyes. The hand on his cheek was so warm and gentle… He opened his eyes and saw something wistful in the grey ones behind the mask. The fingers on his cheek caressed him one more time and began to pull away. Keith reached up quickly to hold them in place. Grey eyes turned black as pupils widened. A growl rumbled questioningly in the priest’s throat and he took a step closer. Keith bit his lip and nodded. 

Keith saw the pleasure in the priest’s eyes and knew the man was smiling. His hand trailed from Keith’s cheek and down his chest, leaving warmth in its path, and traveled still lower, coming to rest on his cock. Keith gasped as the priest took his cock in between his finger and thumb and pinched it, using it as a leash as he pulled Keith to the center of the dais. Embarrassed both by the situation and how his cock had started to respond to it, Keith stood quietly and resisted the urge to cover himself with his hands.

The high priest called for “the old altar” to be set up, which caused some confusion and activity on the part of the other priests. They had not been planning to use it and naturally it took a little time to fetch from the temple and arrange. The high priest waited patiently, massaging Keith’s cock almost absentmindedly. It was only when Keith whimpered during a particularly good sweep of his thumb that he reacted, turning himself a little closer. 

“Patience,” he chided gently. 

Easy for the guy not having his cock played with to say.

A strong breeze raced through the square and Keith shivered despite himself. The high priest wordlessly removed his own wrap and placed it around Keith’s shoulders. It was warm from the priest’s body, and Keith smiled his thanks. He also took a peek at the man’s lower half: damn. Everything was proportionately thick and long and apparently unbothered by the cold as his erection stood dark and proud. Keith wondered if it would hurt. He hoped not, but he figured he could handle it if it did. It’s not like this part of the ceremony would be long, and he could tell the high priest would be careful with him. 

Finally, the altar--really more of a stone bench--was in place and, to Keith’s relief, a vial of oil was given to the high priest. Keith was directed to kneel in front of the altar and lie his chest on it. Keith hissed at the cold stone but did as he was told. Warm hands smoothed down his sides, soothing him, and he waited, still a little nervous but not frightened.

“Spread for me,” the priest said quietly, and Keith obediently spread his legs. 

Oil-slicked fingers rubbed at his hole, and Keith couldn’t help flinching at the touch. The priest petted down his sides again, gentle and slow. Keith could warmth radiating off his body, and relaxed. Despite the hundreds of eyes on him, he felt shielded. 

A finger eased in. Keith bit his lip to keep quiet. The intrusion didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel good, either. Keith had heard this felt good for some people, but apparently he didn’t belong to that group. The finger pulled out and then pressed back in with more oil, this time massaging his walls. It felt weird, and Keith squirmed.

“I will not hurt you,” the priest told him quietly. “Do not fight my hand.” 

Keith nodded and set his head on the altar, trying to relax. He trusted the priest, letting him move Keith’s hips as he wanted and then work in a second finger. This time there was a bit of a stretch, but it still didn’t hurt. The priest began to rub and thrust in a rhythm, working him slowly, and it didn’t exactly feel good, but Keith didn’t dislike it. Then the priest did something new. 

“Oh,” Keith gasped. 

The priest hushed him gently and did it again. Fuck, whatever that was was nice, or close to nice, or something. It was intriguing and Keith wanted more. He tried to angle himself subtly and heard the priest chuckle. 

“Soon,” he said. He pulled his fingers out and pressed back in with three. Keith whimpered. The priest hushed him again but stopped moving, waiting until Keith nodded. 

“Are you not going to continue with the dancers?” the high priest said suddenly, louder and to the other priests. They hurried through apologies and began to get the rest of the ceremony in order again. That could only mean the man would enter him soon. 

“It won’t hurt?” Keith whispered, looking over his shoulder. Grey eyes smiled at him.

“I will not let it,” the priest said. 

Music and chanting started. Keith buried his face in his elbow and waited, feeling the man move in closer behind him, the tip of his cock hard against him. 

“Breathe out,” the man said, and he pushed in as Keith did. 

Keith’s mind blanked out for a moment, confused by the new sensation. It wasn't bad; it was weird. He almost liked it. He did like the way the man crouched low over him and gripped his hips possessively. Mounted, the man had called it. Yes, Keith felt mounted and taken, and ordinarily he would detest submitting to someone he didn’t know, but he trusted the priest. He’d promised it wouldn’t hurt. 

The priest began to move, slow and steady, and it made his cock rub that same spot from earlier. Keith couldn’t help trying to angle himself again, and this time the man let him. 

“Oh,” Keith gasped again. This was… this was good. He whined into the crock of his elbow, embarrassed. He wanted more. 

“You are the offering and the vessel,” the priest growled, bending low over him. “You will take my seed and let the land be blessed.”

Keith was pretty sure there was a chant or song or poem he was supposed to be reciting in response, but he had only heard vaguely about the old ways. Hopefully it would be enough to let himself be used for the ritual. 

Magic rose. Keith felt it in the air, stronger than at any ceremony or festival he had attended before. It was warm around him, and with every grunting thrust he felt more connected and grounded. This was where he was supposed to be, bent over for the pleasure of the gods, a living testament to be witnessed. The desire and want building in his body was to be the answer of the earth to the divine. A groan finally broke his lips. 

“Feel me,” the priest whispered. “Accept me.”

Keith could hardly do otherwise, filled with cock on every thrust. Need was curling in his gut and his legs shook. He ached to touch himself. Was he even allowed to come? He bit his lip to the point of blood to keep from begging. Vaguely, he became aware that there was something green and soft under his hands--moss. It was under his knees and feet, too. It was growing, spreading, gathering short grasses and vines. Surely this was far more magic than a human could do, even if they were a blessed priest on a holy day…! 

Keith looked over his shoulder, wide eyed, watching the man who was thrusting inside him. The air was so much warmer now and the sun brighter. This was true spring. Who had this power but the gods themselves? 

The mask on the priest’s face melted into nothing as the man groaned and came. Hot pleasure spilled inside Keith, sending intense want rolling through his veins. He sobbed aloud and the priest thrust harder, gripping him tighter. Keith saw fierceness in the man’s face, but it didn’t frighten him. He could feel it in the magic and in the touch of his hands: the man was god, determined to conquer Keith’s body. 

“Worship me,” the god demanded. 

Keith wailed and obeyed, spilling white on the grass below. His limbs gave out from the force of his pleasure, but the god caught him in his arms. He eased out of Keith and then hoisted him to his chest. 

“Come with me to my home,” the god said, eyes locked on Keith’s. 

Keith gasped agreement and buried his face in the god’s neck. A flicker of time later they were gone.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith blinked awake slowly. He was lying on a sumptuous bed that was larger than his entire bedroom and he was no longer covered in oil and paint. He did still have on the necklace the god had given him but was otherwise naked.

“You did well, little one.”

The god sat down beside him on the bed and handed him a goblet of spiced wine. Keith sat up and gratefully accepted the drink. A single sip chased away even the memory of the morning’s chill and Keith might have groaned. The god smiled and handed him a plate of fruits and meats.

“Please. Eat,” he said. 

Keith did so with gusto. He’d never tasted anything with more ripeness or richness of flavor, and he had trouble keeping the juices from spilling down his chin. The god arched an eyebrow and handed him a handkerchief with a small smirk.

“Thank you,” Keith said sheepishly.

“Are you that hungry?” the god asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“I am hungry, but it’s  _ really  _ good,” Keith explained.

The god smiled again. He reached out and cupped his hand to Keith’s cheek. “You are very lovely. Thank you for agreeing.”

Keith blushed hard. “Um, thank you, sir--er--my lord. Your highness!”

The god chuckled. “Please, just call me Shiro.”

“Shiro,” Keith said. He smiled shyly. “I'm Keith.”

(Which should he even have offered his name? The god didn’t ask for it, and maybe he knew it already anyway?)

“Keith,” Shiro said, trying out the sounds on his tongue. He smiled down at him. “Keith,” he repeated softly, and he leaned down and kissed him. “Keith.” Another kiss. “Keith.” He was over him now, on the bed, caging him. Keith spread his legs and the god smiled, kissing his throat and neck. “You accept me, then? For the week?”

It took Keith a moment to remember that, in the old days, the festivals did last an entire week. Huh. That was going to be a lot of fucking. Well, he could hardly complain about staying in this particular bed for a week, especially not if he was going to receive spectacular foods from the most handsome man he’d ever seen. He nodded with a shy smile and was rewarded with a deeper kiss. 

“You need not be quiet this time,” Shiro said, sucking a mark on Keith’s throat. “And you can ask for whatever you wish.”

“Can I touch you?” Keith asked, hesitantly putting his hands on the god’s sides. 

Shiro chuckled. “Please do,” he said. 

They resumed kissing and Keith was only slightly disappointed that it was too distracting to let him focus on feeling the man’s body. He’d known for some time that women held no interest for him, and he’d often wondered how different it would feel to touch a man other than himself. At least in this case, when his partner was so much larger and so heavily muscled, it felt very different. He loved it, kneading the flesh beneath his hands and roaming to touch more.

Shiro crowded in closer, responding to Keith’s incessant pulling and tugging, and they melded together, rocking against one another. Keith was a gasping mess in no time, whimpering into Shiro’s mouth. He was already growing dizzy with want. He started to roll over so the god could mount him again, but Shiro pressed a hand to his chest, holding him in place.

“Like this,” Shiro said softly. He had magicked oil from somewhere and began to rub at Keith’s hole with his fingers. 

Keith gasped and nodded and a finger slipped in, pulled out, and pushed back in with two. Keith groaned and arched his back. Now that he knew what was coming, he was eager to accept Shiro’s fingers as quickly as possible.

“Mmm, you trained well,” Shiro purred. “I wonder how badly you’ll want me by the end of week?” Keith ducked his face in embarrassment and Shiro chuckled and kissed him. “Don’t worry, little one. I will give you what you need.”

Keith whimpered as Shiro massaged his walls, stretching him and teasing over the spot that so desperately wanted attention. “P-please,” he gasped.

Shiro kissed him deeply as he pulled his fingers out and lined back up. “Breathe out, sweetness, like last time.”

This time Keith thought he might like the fullness and stretch. He definitely liked feeling the weight of the god over him. 

“You look good in my bed,” Shiro said, sounding a little smug. 

Keith blushed and ducked his head again. He wasn't used to compliments, and he certainly wasn't used to this many compliments in a row from a  _ god _ .

“Sweet boy,” Shiro murmured, kissing his forehead. “Let me make you feel good.” He began to move, and Keith tucked himself in the crook of Shiro’s neck, embarrassed by how good he felt. The magic was rising again, but it was sweeter this time, gentler, and the crescendo of it built slowly into something powerful. Heat and need swirled in his gut, and he couldn’t help gasping and panting. 

“Perfect, so perfect,” Shiro encouraged. “Just like that. Ahh--you’re taking me so well. What do you need? Ask me.”

“Nngh--need more--please, more,” Keith cried. 

Shiro kissed him again and hiked his hips up higher, thrusting in deeper and harder. “Touch your cock for me, sweet boy. That’s it.”

Keith squirmed a hand with difficulty in between them to reach his cock, unwilling to lose the closeness of skin on skin, but oh gods that was just what he needed. The friction from rubbing against Shiro’s abs had been wonderful but now he could press his thumb  _ just  _ right on his head. 

“Oh,” Keith gasped. “Oh gods.”

“Just the one,” Shiro growled, but there was a laugh in it. “Say my name. Say my name and come on my cock.”

“Shiro! Ahhn,  _ Shiro _ !” Keith cried out, shaking and writhing as he came. 

Shiro kissed him fiercely and filled him with warmth and new pleasure, his cum hot and deep inside him. 

“Sweet boy, just perfect,” Shiro said softly. He gave him another lingering kiss before pulling out. “Let me clean you up.”

“Oh, I can--” Keith started, but Shiro had already summoned another cloth and was just gently wiping him down, pausing to kiss his hip and thigh. 

“You can,” Shiro agreed, carefully cleaning his hole, “but I want to. You have been very good for me.”

Keith blushed yet again and had to hide his face in his hands. 

“There,” Shiro said, making the cloth disappear. He pulled Keith comfortably to him and kissed his forehead. “You have earned a rest. Let me know if you wish for more food, or anything else.”

The things Keith most desired at the moment were answers.

“Shiro?” Keith asked timidly, uncertain if it was okay to pester the god with questions. “Why did you come to the festival? Did the priests call for you?”

“It had been a long time since I’d last attended a festival in person. With the full moons, I knew the celebrations would be larger, so I sought one out.”

“Not the main temple in the capital?”

Shiro smiled. “We gods don’t recognize the same borders that humans do. There are many ‘main temples’ I could choose from. I simply decided I would prefer the countryside, somewhere closer to a forest, and I am very pleased that I did.” He gave Keith another kiss. “I hope you are pleased as well.”

“Of course!” Keith cried. He’d lost his virginity to a  _ god _ , and a damn handsome one. He cocked his head, a sudden thought occuring. “What would have happened if I’d said no?”

“I would still have blessed the earth, but I would rather have blessed it through you.” 

“Through me?” Keith asked. He was pretty sure he was, overall, a fairly insignificant part of the proceedings. Any other participant could have taken his place.

“I could sense that your body would hold my magic well. You are--how to put it--fertile ground for me.”

“‘Fertile’,” Keith said with a little laugh. “I mean, if you say so. I can’t get pregnant, so it doesn’t seem like me being on the receiving end would help much.” 

Shiro snorted. “Sex need not be for children alone. The intimacy of two coming together is the primary reason for this. I can make the earth fertile on my own, but I wish for the humans to come and share with me, thus the old ways. And,” he added, looking at Keith meaningfully, “you  _ can  _ get pregnant if I will it.” He placed his hand over Keith’s belly. “You already are, in a manner of speaking.”

“I  _ what _ ?” Keith asked, jaw dropping.

The god chuckled. “Not with a child. With magic. You will grow with it and birth it. I promise it will not harm you or permanently alter you in any way.” 

“I...I did not know about that,” Keith faltered. What the actual fuck?

Shiro looked concerned. “I can undo it, if you wish. I’m sorry. I did not...I was not thinking. I let myself be enamored, and I forgot how many of the old ways are now unknown. That was wrong. I--”

Keith put a finger to Shiro’s lips. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You just really surprised me, is all. It’s not a permanent thing?”

Shiro nodded.

“I just what--marinate in magic for a bit and at the end of the week, I let it out?”

Shiro nodded again.

“Okay then.”

“You are certain?” Shiro asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” Keith said, pressing his hand to his stomach. He couldn’t feel a difference, other than an overall low buzz of magic in his veins. “You’ll take care of me, won’t you? So it’s fine.”

Shiro smiled at him and gave him a slow, sweet kiss. “I will take very good care of you. I promise.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro provided Keith with soft, black pants and a loose, red tunic to wear. Keith had never owned anything so comfortable or expensive in his life, and he couldn’t imagine wearing them anywhere but Shiro’s home--they would be spoiled at his place. He accepted them gratefully and wondered if this meant the sex was over. That made a sort of sense. He was already pregnant, after all. 

Pregnant. What a bizarre thought. He kept finding himself touching his stomach. By evening, he could swear there was the beginning of a bump. 

“I think I’m growing,” he told Shiro shyly.

The god smiled and put his hand over Keith’s stomach. “I told you: you are well suited to take my magic.” He kissed Keith on the cheek and Keith turned, wistfully hoping to catch his lips. Shiro smiled and indulged him. “Sweet boy,” he murmured. “When I told you I would take care of you, I meant it. However you choose to spend the week is fine. You can spend it with me, or if you wish, you can lie in bed and rest the entire time.”

“I’d get bored just napping all day,” Keith confessed, “but you don’t need to entertain me.”

“I would like to,” Shiro said sincerely. “Perhaps you would like to see more of my home?”

Keith assumed this meant an exploration of a palace, but it turned out most of Shiro’s “home” was out of doors. Shiro guided him through forest paths and showed him ponds and rivers. They stayed late into the night, but Keith insisted he wasn't tired. He’d always loved the woods, and Shiro’s were especially wild and especially beautiful. He did eventually yawn--and abruptly found himself in Shiro’s arms and whisked back to his bedroom with almost comical speed. 

“You need to rest,” Shiro said gently. 

Keith did not want to rest alone, he found. The bed was large and comfortable but inevitably lonely, and he caught Shiro’s hand as the god pulled away. 

“While you stay?” he asked, blushing a little. It was embarrassing to be so needy with a god. 

“Of course,” Shiro said, tenderly and perhaps pleased. “All night, if you wish.”

Keith nodded and Shiro climbed in beside him and pulled him to his chest. “Rest well, sweet boy,” he said. 

Keith fell asleep to the sound of the god’s heartbeat and the feeling of fingers combing his hair.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


When Keith awoke, it was to see Shiro smiling at him with fond amusement. 

“What?” Keith said, wiping his mouth. “Did I drool?”

“A little,” the god said. “Snored some, too.” He kissed his forehead. “It was very cute.”

Keith blushed and ducked his head. He really didn’t know how to handle all the compliments, or the easy affection. Shiro was just so  _ open  _ about it. Keith would try to argue back that he wasn't worth all this attention and fuss, but he couldn’t very well contradict a god. He just had to quietly accept that, for some reason, Shiro was fond of him. 

Keith reached down to check on his bump. It had grown a little overnight. He looked down to see how obvious it was and noticed something else obvious--his morning wood. He blushed again.

Shiro chuckled and touched Keith’s stomach. “This is cute, too.” His hand trailed questioningly lower. “Do you want me to help with this?” he asked, pausing at the base of Keith’s cock.

Keith bit his lip, too embarrassed to ask, and pushed his hips forward in response. Shiro wrapped his hand around him and began to pump, kissing him deeply the whole while. Keith whimpered into his mouth, barely able to match him. The god found all his most sensitive places and teased them relentlessly, playing him like music as he drew out Keith’s pleasure. 

“Please,” Keith gasped. “Shiro---!”

“You want to come, sweetheart?” Shiro asked. He nipped at Keith’s jaw. “You can do it, sweet boy. Come anytime you want. Come in my hand.”

Keith moaned the god’s name as he came, trembling in his arms. He lay panting for a moment as Shiro pressed soft kisses to his face. Fuck, he was so damn spoiled. 

“What about you?” he said. Shiro was clearly tenting the blankets in an impressive way.

“I will gladly take you again, but you are not obligated to fulfill me in any way. You have already taken my seed--that is more than enough.”

“If you wish to take me again...you should do it,” Keith whispered. 

Shiro tilted Keith’s chin with one finger, directing Keith to meet his eyes. “If we are going by my wishes, you will not leave my bed for the rest of this week,” he said. 

“Th-that doesn’t sound bad,” Keith said. 

Shiro’s eyes crinkled up with his answering smile. “You are too good to me, my sweet boy. Thank you.”

(A god was seriously  _ thanking  _ him for  _ letting  _ him have sex? What even was Keith’s life?)

Keith wondered if his body really felt that good to Shiro or if it was the magic. He certainly didn’t know how to contribute, and the god panted his name so tenderly and gasped in such ecstasy that if someone were only listening, they would be forgiven for thinking that Keith was doing something masterful. All Keith could manage was to cling and cry and let himself be taken. 

“Did that make me bigger?” Keith asked after, touching his stomach.

“It might have,” Shiro said, putting his hand over Keith’s. “I did give you more magic.”

“How big am I going to get?” 

“As large as a woman’s belly before she births. Don’t worry--it won’t be that large when it passes out of you,” Shiro assured him. “It will condense.”

Keith blushed at the thought of growing so large. It was both humiliating and good to think of being seen like that--which brought up another question.

“Where will I...give birth?”

“Not here,” Shiro said regretfully. “It will need to be in your valley, somewhere, so that you give my blessing to the earth there.” He cocked his head. “Where do you want to give birth?”

“I guess it doesn't matter. You’ll be with me, right?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll be there,” Shiro promised with a kiss.

“Did..did they give birth in front of everyone? During the time of the old ways, I mean.”

Shiro’s eyes grew darker.

“They did,” he said. “But if you do not wish it, it will not happen. Wherever and however you are comfortable--that is my only requirement.”

“I’ll...I’ll think about it,” Keith said. It made him nervous, but not entirely in a bad way. And if Shiro was there…

Shiro kissed his forehead. “Whatever you want,” he repeated. “Let me get you some breakfast.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith was entirely unused to having someone pamper him--by any stretch of the word--and now he had a literal god eager to see to his smallest comfort. In fact, he suspected that Shiro wanted him to have more needs so that he could meet them. It just wasn't in Keith, though, to ask for help fluffing his pillow, and Shiro anticipated everything else, so he did the next thing he could think of: ask for more sex. 

Shiro was  _ very  _ happy to oblige. 

Over the next few days, Shiro took him repeatedly. Keith’s belly grew steadily, and while initially their positions had been varied, by the end of the week Keith could only tolerate lying on his side while Shiro fucked him from behind.

Keith loved it. 

He was still not over his shyness or overall awkwardness about the situation, but being nestled in Shiro’s arms while the god murmured praises was the best thing he’d ever felt. He was safe, cherished,  and loved . And he wasn't going to complain about the sex, either.

“Oh,” Keith moaned. “Oh gods, Shiro, it’s so good.”

Shiro hushed him gently. He was thrusting slow and deep, making Keith ride the edge of need, and idly toying with Keith’s cock. At the start of the week, he would have been begging Shiro to let him come, but now he simply let the god have his way with him. Shiro always seemed to know when he’d reached his limit--and his limit came well after what he’d first thought it was. 

“There you go,” Shiro said, tightening his hold on Keith’s cock. “Just a little more for me.”

Keith whimpered and squirmed and finally succumbed to the relentless pleasure inside him, crying softly from the immense force of it all. Shiro finished moments later, grunting as he pumped, and then he was pulling Keith to him to kiss his tears.

“Is it getting too much for you, my sweet?” he said sympathetically. Keith’s stomach was stretched and taut, and every session made him just a little fuller. 

Keith placed his hands protectively over his belly. He liked the proof of their time together. The entire thing still didn’t seem real, but at least there was no mistaking this. “It’s a lot,” he admitted reluctantly. 

Shiro hummed apologetically. “Just one more day.” 

Only one more day. 

Keith rolled on his side and searched Shiro’s eyes. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but the kindness that met him reassured him all the same.

“I’ll do it. I’ll, um, I’ll give birth in front of them,” he said. 

“You do not need to do that just for me,” Shiro said slowly. “I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“I want to do it the right way, and… I think I want to show off what we did.”

That earned him a hard, deep kiss. 

“Oh my sweet, perfect boy,” Shiro said, voice rough and eyes dark. “Do not move a muscle--I will alert the priests to have the ceremony ready.”

He disappeared from the bed, and before it could grow cold from his absence, he returned. 

“Everything shall be arranged,” he announced. “You need only rest.”

Keith sat up on his elbows, eyeing Shiro over. He was only wearing his ceremonial skirt, and his nipples were pert and pebbled and his cock was clearly hard. Shiro actually blushed under the scrutiny. 

“You excite me,” he said with something very near a mumble. Silly god.

“Come here,” Keith said, beckoning him over. 

Shiro sheepishly came and slid under the covers as Keith directed him. Keith curled on his side with a sigh. “I need a nap,” he said, “and then you can make me a little bigger, if you want.”

Shiro chuckled and pulled Keith to rest on his chest. “Sleep well, sweet boy,” he said. 

Keith was asleep in moments.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


The morning was almost warm even before the sun poked above the horizon. Perhaps that was the reason the crowd was larger than it had been a week earlier--or, perhaps word had spread that Keith’s mysterious disappearance was directly related to a fertility god and he was about to reappear in the same miraculous fashion, and there were to be blessings given out from said god, and maybe there was something extremely salacious and gossip-worthy happening. Whatever the case, the crowd was almost double the size it had been, and Keith was feeling a little overwhelmed. Shiro’s protective hand keeping him grounded was the only reason he hadn’t fled. 

It helped that he was still dressed, but the way people were whispering and pointing made his cheeks hot with shame. He’d never liked being the center of attention. Maybe this had all been a bad idea. 

“This ends if you want it to,” Shiro murmured, leaning next to his ear. 

Keith shook his head slightly. Even if he was uncomfortable, he wanted to see it through. And, well, so what if it was embarrassing to be pregnant and to give birth in front of everyone? He was proud that he’d done so well for Shiro (and he wasn't sure anyone would believe the blessing had happened if they didn’t see it themselves--he had a hard time believing it and it was happening  _ to  _ him).

Keith wasn't the only one feeling overwhelmed: the local high priest was so moved by the whole situation he was in tears and had to stop twice during his speech to compose himself. He kept waxing poetic about the “beautiful sacrifice” Keith was making (um, what?) and how the whole thing was “unbearably generous” on the part of Shiro (true). 

“But I liked it,” Keith muttered under his breath as the priest again praised Keith for his “efforts on behalf of all of us”. 

He heard Shiro chuckle, and that warmed his heart maybe more than it should.

“As did I,” Shiro whispered.

Keith wished they were back in Shiro’s bed. He wanted to curl up and kiss him. But, the priest was finally wrapping up his speech, and now Shiro was escorting him to the chair they had set up for him. It was time.

He sat down--aided by Shiro--and heard gasps as he removed his cloak, revealing his belly. Shiro was right: it was as stretched and swollen as any woman giving birth. His embarrassment was mixed with pride because he had done it, his body had taken Shiro’s magic and housed it, had sheltered and nourished it and let it grow. The blessing of the god’s power was greater because of what the two of them had done together. 

Almost defiantly, Keith held his head up as he settled himself. The priest knelt eagerly in front of him as Keith spread his legs, ready to catch whatever Keith birthed. Keith struggled not to grimace. He wasn't exactly delighted to have the priest  _ right  _ there, hands outstretched, but maybe it was good to have a bit of a screen…? Because even without looking, he knew his hole was puffy and still leaking just a little from his last session with the god (earlier that very hour).

Shiro took Keith’s hand. “Squeeze my hand when you are to begin,” he said quietly.

Keith nodded, took a deep breath, and squeezed. Immediately Shiro’s power flowed into him and started the process. He gasped in shock at the sudden clenching of his stomach. It didn’t hurt, but it was intense and he found it hard to breathe. 

“Relax,” the god murmured, rubbing his back with his free hand.

The spasm stopped and Keith gulped in air. He wished Shiro wasn't wearing his mask again--he knew the god would give him a tender, proud look. It was lonely not to see him. He took another deep breath, and tried again. This time, he felt something move.

Every contraction had the strange effect of shrinking his stomach without making progress on moving anything out. Shiro had told him the magic would condense, so it wasn't surprising, but the whole thing felt bizarre. 

“Is everything alright?” the priest asked nervously, his voice hushed.

“He is doing perfect,” Shiro said, tone proud. 

Keith pushed and groaned. The more the magic condensed, the more it moved into his chamber, heavy and low--and the smaller his stomach shrank, the easier it was to see how hard this was making him. It was now pressing insistently against that wonderful spot Shiro had found, and every shuddering spasm pushed it harder.

Sweat dripped off his face. The crowd was murmuring, and Keith heard indistinct words of either worry or admiration. He groaned and let his head loll back after a particularly long spasm. His stomach was less than half its size now, and the pressure on his abdomen was all but unbearable. It rode the line between pain and pleasure, and Keith was going hazy. He squeezed Shiro’s hand hard. 

“Please don’t leave me,” Keith gasped, just loud enough for the god to hear.

Shiro rubbed his hand. “I am not going anywhere, sweet boy. I am here for you.”

Keith shook his head. “After. Don’t leave me.”

“I will stay. I promise,” Shiro said, squeezing his hand back. 

Keith sobbed with relief and pushed again. He felt it move, down and hard and fast and then it was at his hole, far too large to pass. He sobbed again, this time from frustration. 

“You can do this, Keith,” Shiro whispered. “You are so close, sweetheart. One more push. It will be difficult but I won’t let it hurt you.”

Chest heaving, Keith pushed down as hard as he could. The magic stubbornly stayed at his hole, still too large to pass, but oh it was so good. Keith shouted something and cried, shaking, his back bowing with the effort. His cock was stiff and weeping and his legs trembled, and finally finally finally the pressure forced his hole to give way. 

The priest gave a cry of triumph and held up what Keith had passed: a shimmering orb the size of two fists. 

“With this we are blessed!” he cried, and the orb shrank rapidly before disappearing with a flash of light. A wave of soft glow shimmered through the air and people cheered and clapped. Later, Keith would be told the glow smelled of clean air and all the plants it touched as it spread outward blossomed. At the moment of the magic, however, Keith was barely conscious, and he was cradled by a god who whisked the two of them away.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


“Are you doing alright?” Shiro asked, arms still protectively around Keith as they reappeared in his home.

Keith sagged against Shiro for a few moments, taking in slow breaths. He felt weak but was getting better by the second. “That was intense, but I’m fine now. I was just afraid you’d leave before I could say goodbye,” Keith explained, cheeks pink.

Shiro cupped his face in his hands. “Oh, my sweet, darling boy--of course not,” Shiro said earnestly. He kissed Keith passionately, pulling him flush against his chest. “You have been every shade of perfection. I could not ask for a better offering. Besides,” he said, trailing his hand down to Keith’s cock, “you still need my help, do you not?”

It was ridiculous, considering how many times he’d come in the past few days, but yes--Keith was indeed still hard. He whined and tucked his face into Shiro’s neck. The god chuckled fondly and wrapped a hand around the two of them, kissing Keith’s hair as he started to pump them. It was a matter of mere moments before Keith was once again overwhelmed, spilling white in the god’s hand.

“Sweet, precious boy,” Shiro said. “Look at you. You are so good for me.” 

He didn’t bother finishing himself, opting instead to scoop Keith up and take him to a bath where they soaked together. He fussed a great deal over washing Keith thoroughly, and it was only with a bit of pouting that Keith was allowed to take charge--at which point he promptly took Shiro in hand to return the favor.

“You. Are. Amazing,” Shiro gasped. He shuddered and let his head fall back. “Unbelievable. I could keep you forever.”

Keith’s heart skipped and clenched painfully, and he found it hard to breathe when the god shook his head and sat back up, laughing at himself. 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be so greedy,” Shiro said ruefully. He gave Keith a kiss on the forehead and got out of the tub to get them some towels. Keith had his face under control again by the time Shiro returned.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


In far too little time, Shiro had Keith dried and dressed and back in his own home. Keith found that his mouth wouldn’t open--the weight of words he couldn’t say kept it shut. He swallowed hard and gave Shiro a final hug, hoping to convey a little of what he meant. Shiro matched the force of his embrace, and it was long minutes before they parted.

Shiro brushed his fingers through Keith’s bangs. “If I come again for the summer festival, will you be there? Will you offer yourself for the old ways again?” he asked, looking wistful. 

“But...you cannot ask for me,” Keith said, confused. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“We do not need virgins. What we asked for is unwed participants, and somewhere along the way priests assumed we meant virgins. We only wished to prevent humans from harming the sanctity of their wedding vows.” He tilted his head and smiled. “Yes, the gods honor vows made by humans. But no--virginity makes no difference for this type of magic. Gods do not need such things for our work. We are more than potent enough on our own. So: if I come, will you be my offering?”

“Yes,” Keith said quickly, his heart beating so loudly in his chest he could barely hear himself. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

Shiro smiled his satisfaction.

“I shall look forward to it,” he said, and with a final kiss he was gone.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


A day before the summer festival, Shiro appeared in front of Keith while he was gathering herbs in the woods. Keith couldn’t help smiling and he dropped the plants he was carrying and strode over to the god.

Shiro greeted him with a long, deep kiss. “Mmm,” he said, eyes pleased. “You have not lain with anyone.”

Keith blushed and didn’t ask how he knew. “What would you do if I had?” he asked.

“Been very jealous,” Shiro replied, kissing his neck.

“Just that?” Keith teased. 

Shiro pulled back. “It would not be fair of me to put any claim on you. Gods cannot pour too much blessing into one region without jeopardizing the welfare of another. I cannot indulge here too often, so I shall not bind you to any promises. Still,” he said, weaving his fingers through Keith’s hair, “it pleases me that you did not find comfort elsewhere.”

“And did you?” Keith asked shyly. 

“What would you do if I had?” the god asked, smiling mischievously. 

“Been very jealous.”

Shiro laughed. “Well, you need not worry. I found no one who could tempt me.”

Keith wanted to ask if Shiro had gone  _ looking  _ for temptation, but he let himself be kissed instead. 

“You’re here early, you know,” Keith said.

“I wanted to make sure it was still worth my while to come tomorrow,” Shiro replied.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Keith asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well… If you had changed your mind…,” Shiro trailed off. He looked nervous, which was ridiculous. Keith pressed his entire body against him as they kissed.

“Never,” he said. 

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro came for him at the turn of every season. Keith knew he should not count on it, or even to see the god at all, but the approach of the festivals always filled him with equal parts fear and hope. For two years, the god came without fail. Keith developed a reputation as a god fucker and was met with an odd combination of reverence and fear. He continually had to decline becoming a priest. He was a hunter and wanderer of the forest in his heart, and if Shiro found him worthy like that, then he had no reason to make a change.

Keith grew to love the public portion of their time together. There was something shameful and embarrassing in it, having his cock hanging thick between his legs as he willingly bent over the altar, exposing himself for all to see--but it was also exciting and he touched himself to the thought of it more than once. Shiro was wonderfully possessive of him then, almost feral in his domination though he never hurt him. Afterward, Shiro whisked him away immediately and took him tenderly, sometimes kissing him for hours before going further. 

Once their week was complete and the birthing done, Keith tried to keep his heart hidden for the last hour or so before they parted. It was difficult, but at least Keith had the certainty of seeing the god the next season--until the second winter.

“I will not be here next spring,” Shiro said quietly.

Keith’s heart beat faster. “And next summer?”

“Perhaps.” The god sighed. “I have been overfond. They are unhappy with me, and they are right to be.”

“What about fall?” Keith persisted. 

Shiro smiled at him sadly. “I will at least come for you in the fall.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


He didn’t.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith had never known so cold and bitter a winter. The wind howled every night, and even when it did not snow, ice formed over every window. The townsfolk blamed him. They said he must have done something to anger Shiro and that was why the god no longer blessed the land. Keith knew in his heart they were wrong, but he couldn’t express it. He let them shun him or hiss their insults. Only his handful of friends knew otherwise--that Keith trusted the god still, and that his heart was breaking. 

Despite the fierceness of the weather, Keith went for his forages in the woods. He trapped and hunted and sometimes he went just to feel nearer to Shiro. He missed him. He had told himself not to get too attached, that any festival might be their last, and of course he’d always had to go months at a time without seeing him, but… He’d fallen in love. Shiro was so kind and attentive, and he’d been easy to tease and talk to. Every season it had been harder to leave him. If only he’d known the previous winter was their last one together, he might have….

A crunch of a footfall on the snow behind him, and Keith whipped around, expecting a hungry wolf. Instead, he saw a tired god.

“Shiro,” he gasped. 

“Hello, Keith,” he said. He had a long cloak wrapped around him and a bandage across his face. He smiled, but it was sad and distant. Keith took a few steps forward, but the god stepped back.

“Shiro,” he repeated, the longing heavy in the word even to his own ears. “What happened?”

“A dispute over territory,” Shiro sighed. “Even gods have wars and grudges.” He gave Keith another smile, just as tired. 

A cold wind blew past them, rippling Shiro’s cloak, and Keith’s eyes widened. It wasn't hanging right----Shiro couldn’t be----

This time Shiro didn’t step back when Keith surged forward. The god sunk within himself, but he held still and let Keith open his cloak. 

His right arm was gone.

“It is nothing,” the god said quietly. “I will regrow it in time, when my strength returns.”

Keith wrapped himself around Shiro, holding onto him like he might die if he let go. 

“Oh my sweet boy,” Shiro murmured. He tucked Keith to him with his left arm. “You’re cold again.”

“Thank you,” Keith whispered, voice nearly lost in Shiro’s chest. “Thank you for coming back.”

“Oh, Keith…,” the god sighed. He bent his head to rest it on Keith’s. “Forgive me. I worried you.” He reangled them, shifting his body so that he blocked the wind. “I wanted to stay away until I healed, but I wished to see you. I wished to apologize. I am a very poor god for not keeping my word.”

“Well, it looks like you might have had a pretty good excuse,” Keith said, trying to tease. He rubbed at his eyes. “Fuck. You don’t need to apologize to me, Shiro. Just...just be okay.”

“I will be,” Shiro promised softly. “Eventually.”

“‘Eventually’ is a shit word,” Keith said fiercely. “Who has been looking after you?”

Shiro blinked down at him in surprise. “Who would possibly take care of a god? Any god so weak as that would not be worthy of worship. Do not fear: I will recover, and when I am strong again, I will return for you, if you wish it. Until then, be well, and do not worry for me. And, perhaps, think of me a little, you have the time for it.”

Keith glared up at him. “Who the hell else would I be thinking of? Gods damn it, Shiro, do you think all of this has been  _ worship _ ?”

Shiro looked miffed.

“Listen,” Keith said, “it’s cold out here, and you’re hurt, and I’m not going to argue with you in the snow. Take me back to your house.”

Shiro stared at him, wide eyed. “Keith….”

“Shut up and take me home,” Keith said stubbornly. 

Shaking his head--but this time smiling for real--Shiro did as he was asked.

A moment later, they were in his bedroom, and Keith cried out in alarm as the god collapsed.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Shiro panted. “Just underestimated how difficult it would be to take both of us.”

“Gods fucking damn it,” Keith hissed under his breath, all but yanking Shiro off the floor and onto his bed. “Don’t  _ do  _ shit like this if you’re not up to it. It’s okay if you’re not feeling well! Just let me help you.”

“I am supposed to be the one taking care of you, sweet boy,” Shiro protested, looking fond and exhausted and maybe a little frightened. “I cannot provide you anything as I am. You should search for a different god to--”

“I  _ said  _ it wasn't about worship,” Keith snapped, adrenaline turning into anger. “Listen to me! I’m not a priest. I don’t care about all those ceremonies and festivals and crap. I mean, I do, but not like… argh! Listen! I wasn't on that stage because I  _ wanted  _ to be. I was just a dumb virgin and they needed the numbers. It was all about  _ you _ , Shiro. I barely agreed to be an offering that first time--do you think I’d have agreed to anything further for just anyone?!”

Shiro’s eyes were huge now. “Did you not...like it?”

“Of course I did! I loved it! But I never would have done it for  _ anyone  _ but you. It was worship, I guess, but it was for  _ you _ . Not for a god, Shiro. It was for you. Everything was for you,” Keith finished. He found himself suddenly deflated. “You took care of me and you were amazing in bed and your power is incredible. All of that was wonderful. But it was you. I love you.”

Stunned silence flooded between them. Keith’s heart was pounding so hard it hurt. “Say something,” he pleaded.

“I guess,” Shiro said slowly, “I should have been selfish and kept you after all.” 

“Fuck,” Keith said and, starting to cry, he threw himself over Shiro and kissed him, hard. If the god groaned from pain or something else, it didn’t matter--he kissed back just as hard anyway.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


There was a certain valley that was blessed with gods. They did not come every season or even every year, but when they did, the whole valley bloomed, and those with lusty constitutions always made sure to attend every festival, just in case, and if they were not filled with religious fervor, well, they were eager worshippers just the same.

Fin. <3

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As usual, my wall of notes!! Keith didn’t get “pregnant” until he agreed to the week with Shiro. To Shiro, the old ways are a two step process: the ceremony and then, if the god is pleased, the week after (which includes the pregnancy). 
> 
> In this world there aren’t specific gods of like, spring versus summer. Shiro is a nature god, so he deals with seasons, agriculture, and wilderness. His fertility has a lot more to do with fertile crops and forests instead of babies, but he can bless that as well. Gods do specialize, but not to the extent of like Olympic gods. Hope that makes sense. >_<
> 
> The ceremonies that Keith’s town/valley holds aren’t meant to be Shiro in particular so much as to nature gods as a whole. Shiro just happened to be the god who showed up to receive the worship/grant the blessings.
> 
> I’m so sorry I accidentally made the priest a freak. >_< He’s just meant to be weird and excited and way too happy. So… anyway. He’s Coran now, I just decided.
> 
> Love you guys!!! Follow me on Twitter and help me figure out which tweet thread fic to convert to AO3 next! @decidedlysarah


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